


if you believe the continuity

by GalaxyOwl



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: (time is weird in bluff city etc etc), F/F, canon has been picked over for spare parts and then thrown out entirely, part of this is in future tense I apologize in advance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-08
Updated: 2019-01-08
Packaged: 2019-10-06 13:54:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,271
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17346419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GalaxyOwl/pseuds/GalaxyOwl
Summary: “Have I seen you around before?” Paternoster said.Elena almost responded,Yeah, we have English together, remember? (Remember, we talked at the beginning of the year and I felt like butterflies were going to tear my stomach apart on the sharp edges of their stained-glass wings?)





	if you believe the continuity

Elena ignores the sharp cold of the ocean as she plunges in after Paternoster. The last few seconds replay themself through her mind: Hilda, a dazzling star at the center of everything, and a man with a crab for a face (and she wasn’t going to get _that_ image out of her head anytime soon) and then—then Elena doesn’t really know what happened, just the lights dancing across the room, and then the distant shape of Paternoster, falling.

Elena’s stomach dropped. She cast one glance at the others, then ran for the dock. It was hardly a decision at all.

***

The first time Elena saw her she didn’t quite process the reality of it. Someone was carrying a stained-glass sculpture through the school, and she didn’t understand why the _fuck_ they would be doing that but they’d apparently attracted quite a crowd.

The words _Paternoster_ and _superhero_ and _London_ whispered across the school, but Elena didn’t quite put it together until last period English when she walked into the classroom and there was a stained-glass sculpture sitting in the front row.

She stared as she took a seat a few rows behind. The jewel-bright wings seemed to take up more space than physically possible, to dominate the entire room, so much so that Elena barely noticed the girl they were attached to until they swiveled around and she said, “Hello.”

“Hi,” Elena said.

“I’m Hilda,” the girl said, folding her arms over the back of her chair. “I’m new.”

“Yeah, I think I would’ve noticed if I’d seen you around before.”

It was kind of a shitty thing to say, but Hilda laughed anyways.

Someone sat down in one of the rows between them, and Hilda turned her attention to them.

***

That was the first time Elena Flores met Hilda Quick.

The first time the Champ met Paternoster was a very different experience. The whole thing is still a blur in Elena’s memory, one baffling, incomprehensible reveal after another. She hadn’t gone out that day with the intention of getting up to superheroics, but when she was standing there watching the girl with the stained-glass wings and the weird quiet kid from her math class and some college student she’d never met try to take down this fucked-up eel beast or whatever it was, she couldn’t _not_ intervene. There was adrenaline coursing through her, an energy she didn’t quite know what to do with, and when she stepped forward and hit the damn thing people paid attention.

“People” in this instance being Paternoster, who swerved to the side (she was _flying_ , with those wings, it had somehow never occurred to Elena that they were anything more than aesthetic, that something so beautiful could be real, too) and called down to her, laughter in her voice, “Good arm!”

“Thanks!” Elena grinned.

“Have I seen you around before?” Paternoster said.

Elena almost responded, _Yeah, we have English together, remember? (Remember, we talked at the beginning of the year and I felt like butterflies were going to tear my stomach apart on the sharp edges of their stained-glass wings?)_

But she caught herself, caught sight of the bystander with a camera out, and knew of course she couldn’t say that. “No,” she said, “no, I’m new around here.”

“What’s your name?”

 _Elena_. She didn’t have another answer, yet.

Luckily, their opponent chose that moment to take another swipe at Paternoster, and she didn’t have to.

(It was later, much later, that she came up with the name _the Champ_. It was easy and straightforward and laced with a bitter irony that felt right.

“I like it,” Paternoster said, when she told her, “it’s simple. Catchy.” She shouldn’t have cared as much as she did.)

***

There was a look that passed between Elena and Chanty at school the next morning, a half-smile from across the classroom, and it was _then_ that Elena realized just what she’d gotten herself into. How much this was going to change things.

Without thinking about it, Elena gave Hilda the same look, later, and got a smile back, just a single brilliant flash before Hilda was drawn back into some conversation.

That was how it went. Shared glances and surreptitious smiles and nothing more, really. Even as their… after-school activities, so to speak, progressed, even as the four of them became something more than a group of strangers. Something resembling a team.

Elena sat on the opposite side of the classroom and wished.

***

One day, things went badly. She doesn’t even really remember which time it was—there were enough ups and downs that after a while they all started to blur. But she remembers waking up the next morning, her body aching, in the basement of the arcade.

Chanty was already up; Franklin had already left. But Hilda was still asleep, wings tangled in the pile of blankets, her chest rising and falling with each breath.

Elena dragged herself into a sitting position. “What time is it?” she whispered over to Chanty.

Chanty looked at her. “Uh.” Dug around for her phone. “Eight o’clock.”

“Shit.” It was a Thursday, and school started at 8:30.

It’s probably as good an excuse as any to skip.

Elena’s gaze flicked over to Hilda, still asleep. She couldn’t remember a single time that picture-perfect Paternoster had missed class. She should probably wake her up so she could make the decision for herself, if nothing else.

Elena got to her feet, stretching her arms over her head, pushing against the stiffness of having slept on the floor, and stepped over to where Hilda was sleeping. “Paternoster.” No response. “Paternoster,” she said, louder. She crouched low, lay a hand on Hilda’s shoulder and shook her gently, and Paternoster’s eyes shot open.

“Champ,” she said.

It felt kind of silly, to be addressed by that name in this scenario. But Elena could hardly point that out when she’d just done the same thing.

“It’s eight o’clock,” Elena said, uncertainly.

“Shit.” (Across the room, Chanty laughed.)

Hilda was on her feet in an instant. “We have to go. Chanty, do you know if we can take the car?”

“I can’t show up to school in that car,” Chanty said. “ _Some_ of us are still trying to keep our identities secret.”

“Hmm,” Paternoster said. “We could just park it a few blocks away and walk from there?”

Chanty sighed. “Sure,” she said. “I—sure.”

They arrived at school at 8:34, and Elena had to run to keep up with Paternoster as they crossed the couple of blocks between them and the school building. A couple other stragglers glanced their way as they moved through the hallways, and Elena was suddenly aware of what a sight they must make—her a ragged mess with her hair still tangled from being asleep half an hour ago, Chanty not much better off, and Hilda, who was a sight to see on a good day, right beside them.

“This is my class,” Hilda said, stopping. She stood there a moment. “Thanks, by the way, for getting me up. Thanks for everything.”

“No problem,” Elena said. “I’ll see you later?”

“Yeah,” Hilda said. “Yeah.” That winning smile again.

Elena still wasn’t expecting it when, at lunch that day, Hilda dropped her tray onto the table beside her with a clatter.

“Hey,” she said. “How was your morning?”

Elena froze for a moment, unsure how to react to this development. Then she said,“You mean beside the first part?”

Hilda laughed. (Excitement glowed in Elena at the sound.) “Yeah.”

Elena shrugged. “Fine. Kind of painfully normal.”

“I know what you mean.” Somehow, Elena thought she really might.

***

“How did you even end up in our line of work, so to speak?” Hilda said.

They were sitting on the bleachers, during lunch period. No one was near them, but there were people within sight. Potentially, within hearing.

What’s more, every instinct in her screamed to avoid the question. She didn’t want to talk about it. “You were there,” she said, keeping her voice low. “I had these powers. I had to do something.”

“Well, yeah, but that’s…”

“It’s complicated.” And she meant to end this there, she really did, but once she’d opened her mouth it all came out. She told Hilda what she hadn’t told anyone else, the whole of it, in all its wild truth. “My story isn’t pretty like yours,” Elena said. “It sucked. The thing that landed me with these powers sucked, and I wish it didn’t happen.”

“My story’s only pretty because it isn’t true,” Hilda said, picking at the fraying hem of her skirt.

Elena raised an eyebrow. “So what’s the true story?”

“Oh,” Paternoster said with a smile. “You don’t get to know that just yet.”

***

They were doing a stakeout. Somehow, that was what this particular situation had come down to: the Champ and Paternoster sitting on top of a building watching the scene below, and waiting for anything— _anything_ —to happen. Elena didn’t _want_ this to end in a fight, exactly, but she also kind of would have preferred that to sitting here being buffeted by a wind far colder than springtime should have allowed.

In the distance, a traffic light flicked from red to green. Elena adjusted her sitting position.

“Are you going to prom?”

Elena looked at Hilda. “What?”

“Are you planning on going to prom, next month?” Hilda repeated.

“Uh,” Elena said. “I hadn’t really thought about it.” If it had been anyone else asking, she would have just said no. But with Hilda, the thought was suddenly there that maybe, maybe, this was headed somewhere in particular. She tried to quiet the excitement that flickered in her chest.

Hilda nodded.

Another gust of wind rushed by, and Elena rubbed her arms in a vague attempt to warm herself.

“Oh,” Paternoster said. She lay a hand, warm, on Elena’s shoulder, and crept closer so they were sitting directly beside one another, sharing body heat. Hilda stretched out her wings behind them, forming a windbreak that glittered in the dusky light. Probably Elena should be worried about the wings giving away their position, but she couldn’t bring herself to care when Hilda was sitting so close, her expression so gentle and soft.

There were those glass-winged butterflies again. It was a wonder Elena hadn’t already been torn apart, body and soul. All this just from Hilda sitting next to her.

“Are you?” Elena asked, after a moment, only her voice came out too quiet. She cleared her throat. “Are you going to prom?”

“I don’t know,” Hilda said. “No one’s asked me yet.”

This—was this flirting? Was that an invitation for Elena to ask her? Or just a statement of fact? It could be either, really. Could easily be the latter, so probably it was better not to risk it. How silly would she look if Paternoster said no? Probably she was holding out for some boy or another. Probably she would get asked by like five different people and have to turn most of them down. Pretty famous Paternoster, surely half the school had a crush on her. Elena was foolish for thinking that she, out of everyone, would have her feelings reciprocated.

“I’m surprised you don’t already have someone,” she said aloud.

Hilda half-shrugged. “I had a girlfriend back home,” she said. “But it wasn’t super serious, so when I moved...”

That was... a lot of information to take in. Primarily: _girlfriend_. _Girl_ friend. The word bounced through Elena’s brain like a beam of light.

“Oh,” she said.

Hilda’s hand was flat on the cold rough concrete of the roof. Close to Elena’s. Very much within reachable distance.

Elena reached out and threaded their fingers together.

Elena did not ask her to prom.

As far as she knows, Hilda didn’t go to prom. Neither did she.

Later, she would look back at this moment, this shared breath on the roof, and think, _That it was it. That was my chance, and I missed it._ But for now she only thought that she didn’t want to ruin this fragile thing by speaking.

***

Elena can’t find her. She can’t find her, and every second wasted could be her death, and she dives deeper but she can’t find her.

She’s trying to dive, trying to follow the dark shape of her—well, her _teammate,_ but the salty water stings at her eyes and she doesn’t know what she’s doing, not at all, but she can’t go back to the surface again there’s no _time_.

She can see her, now, close, close, her eyes shut and her body floating limp, and Elena’s stomach twists, and she reaches out and grabs a hold of her arm, and she has her, she has her, she has her, she’s _safe_ , and Elena drags the two of them up to the surface together, splutters as she finally hits air.

***

Not yet, but soon, the faint noise of the motor will signal the car rushing towards them. Elena will drag Hilda inside and collapse into the backseat.

Her hair will be a wet and tangled mess, and she’ll be freezing, but she’ll look fine sitting next to Hilda, whose shivering will send little fragments of reflected light bouncing around the car.

No one will say anything as they drive back to base.

When they do finally get there, it’ll be Grouse, not Elena, who thinks to go get a towel for Hilda, to talk quietly with her and ask if she’s okay. Elena will hover at the edge of the room, not having anything helpful to contribute but reluctant to let Hilda out of her sight.

Grouse will leave, and Elena will still be standing there hovering, and Hilda will say, “You saved me.”

Elena will turn. Hilda will be looking straight at her, game set aside for the moment.

“Yeah,” she’ll say. “I mean—yeah.”

“Thank you.” Elena’s cheeks will flush, which is dumb, _it’s so dumb_ , _there’s no reason for me to be embarrassed about making sure she didn’t_ die _._

They’ll look at one another in silence, a moment.

It’ll be strange to see Hilda so disheveled. Even at school, when she’s making her attempt to play the part of a normal teen, she’s always so put-together, her hair neatly done, her clothes perfect and unstained. But now she’ll just look... Tired. She’ll look scared.

That fact in itself will be terrifying.

“Are you okay?” Elena will say.

Hilda will smile. “Just stunning.” Elena won’t buy it for an instant.

She’ll wish she knew what to say, how to turn this conversation into... Anything at all. But that’s never really been Elena’s strong suit. That’s the nice thing about being a superhero; the bad guy is always someone you can punch.

Elena can’t punch this particular problem.

“I should go,” she’ll say instead. “It’s late, my parents will be wondering...” Elena won’t finish the sentence. It’ll have been ages since her parents bothered to ask where she goes late at night, why she comes home beaten or bruised or soaking wet. But it’s an easy excuse.

“Right,” Hilda will say. “I’ll see you... soon.”

“Yeah,” Elena will say. She’ll hesitate, a moment longer. “Well, goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

***

They’ll be splitting the team, which will be only sensible for the particular context of this particular mission, and Elena’s gaze will follow Hilda as she disappears into the distance.

Waxwing, beside her, who’ll have been talking with Grouse just moments before the others left, will give her a look that she can’t quite read. “Take it from me,” she’ll say. “You never know how long you have left with someone.”

Elena will stop herself from responding with an instinctive, “What the hell do you know about my life,” and instead say dryly, “I don’t think Paternoster’s planning on returning to her alien homeland any time soon.” (But still, but, hell, is she really that obvious? Is it really that clear that she’s completely head-over-heels for Hilda Quick?)

“No?” A raised eyebrow. “Isn’t she going back to England for college?”

“Well—she’ll be back, though. For breaks. Her family’s still here.” She’ll pause, and then realize the more obvious argument: “And that’s hardly the same thing.”

“That doesn’t mean—“ Waxwing will cut herself off. She’ll look at Elena in silence, a long moment. “Sorry,” she’ll say. “I shouldn’t be... Paternoster seems like a nice girl. I’m sure you two will be fine.”

Waxwing will turn and head inside. Elena will leave and try her best to put the memory of this conversation out of her mind.

(She won’t succeed, of course.)

***

It would be easy to think that it would happen, if it was going to happen, while they’re being heroes. That the Champ will rescue Paternoster from some villain and in the heat of the moment her feelings will come pouring out and they’ll kiss and then go back to fighting and it will all be action movie-perfect.

But that’s not how it will happen.

It will happen towards the end of the summer, when the sun is high and hot, and Hilda will call Elena (on the _phone_ ) and say, “I’m leaving next week.”

It would be easy to think that it would happen, if it was going to happen like this, right there. That in that moment Elena will be so overwhelmed by the knowledge that she’s running out of time that her feelings will come pouring out and they’ll both confess and laugh about it over the phone. But that’s not how it will happen.

Instead, what Elena will say is, “Fuck.” And Hilda _will_ laugh at that, and Elena will think that she has that going for her, at least. “We should hang out,” she’ll say.

“That was what I was hoping you’d say.”

“Are you free right now?”

And it’ll only be as she she says this that Elena will realize that this is the first time they’re doing this, hanging out outside of being superheroes or classmates. And that maybe opening with asking if they can do that right now immediately is way too much, but Hilda will be the one who called her out of the blue and she won’t know how to deal with that.

But Hilda will just say, “Yeah.” And then pause, and then say, “Meet me at the arcade?”

Elena will.

This is how it will happen:

Elena will get there after Hilda, and find her waiting for her on the street corner, her wings tucked back behind her but still glittering in the afternoon sun, and Elena will remember that it is almost fall.

“Hey,” Hilda will say, and smile, but it’ll be a quiet smile, different than the one she puts on for the cameras.

“Hi,” Elena will say, and then, “Can I kiss you?”

She’ll regret the words the instant they’re out of her mouth, as Hilda blinks, and furrows her brow, and then breaks into a grin.

Hilda will step forward, then, and kiss her first.

***

There’s a heartbeat where Paternoster does not splutter, and Elena feels like she might shatter, might fall apart entirely, but then Hilda gives a tiny cough. Elena is still holding tight to her as they float there, and she has the vague sense that they should get to shore or safety or something but she isn’t sure she has the energy.

“Elena?” Hilda’s voice is barely audible above the crashing waves.

“I got you,” Elena says. “It’s okay.”

“I—“

Another wave buffets them, sends them rolling across the water, and Elena holds tight, and doesn’t let go.

**Author's Note:**

> come shout about fatt with me on twitter @confusedbluesky


End file.
